


Unlovable (the middle)

by dizzyingly_dreamy



Series: pain throws your heart to the ground (love turns the whole thing around) [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (almost?) Hate Sex, ANOTHER EDIT, Blood, Bruises, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark(ish) Steve Rogers, Drinking, Eating out, Edit, Feels, Fighting, Fluff, He loves him, Hickeys too, I love them so much, Intimidating Steve Rogers, Love-Making, M/M, Minor Angst, Minor Crying, Minor Injuries, Pepper Potts is a bit of a selfish bitch, Protective Steve Rogers, Rimming, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Soft sex, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve just wants to take care of Tony, Steve will do anything for Tony, Sunrises, These dorks, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony loves him too, Tony won't let him, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, because he sees himself as unlovable, but don't worry its not too descriptive, happy feels, minor alcoholism, soft steve rogers, soft tony stark, sorry to Pepper fans, steve rogers has a big dick, that should be an official tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:27:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27793807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzyingly_dreamy/pseuds/dizzyingly_dreamy
Summary: Steve looked at him, unimpressed, with his damn disappointed-in-you gaze that made nearly everyone squirm uncomfortably, except for Tony. Tony was mercifully immune, but not to the moments where his Brooklyn accent shone through, thick and delicious.That almost always had him squirming.(or, Tony is hung over out of his mind and Steve comes to wake him up, unimpressed and annoyed. Fighting ensues, which maybe turns into something not completely different.)
Relationships: Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: pain throws your heart to the ground (love turns the whole thing around) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2033392
Comments: 15
Kudos: 124





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is apart of a series, which doesn't necessarily mean you have to read all of the stories for you to understand what's happening in this one. So, read this one alone, or read them all. They're all tied together, but not so much that it's impossible to read alone. 
> 
> My first Stony, which, honestly, has been coming for a long time. Might have another chapter, might just continue the story in another post in the series. Hope you enjoy, and there will definitely be an update!
> 
> <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

“Tony.” 

Tony grunted and sat up, wincing at the kink in his neck that was radiating pain throughout his shoulders and upper back. He rubbed it furiously with his callused fingers that were coated in some kind of slippery substance, which eased his self-massage and made it feel ten times better. He groaned appreciatively and blinked up at Steve Rogers, who insisted on inserting himself into Tony's every single day of being alive. He was wearing a hoodie that was a little loose and some sweats to match, which Tony decided really didn't help hide any of his muscle mass. 

“That's me.” Tony muttered, continuing to massage himself back into a state where he'd be able to fall back asleep as soon as Steve decided to leave him alone for a couple of hours. Steve looked at him, unimpressed, with his damn disappointed-in-you gaze that made nearly everyone squirm uncomfortably, except for Tony. Tony was mercifully immune, but not to the moments where his Brooklyn accent shone through, thick and delicious. 

That almost always had him squirming. 

“You've been drinking again.” Steve noted, and his foot moved slightly to nudge an empty bottle on the hard cement floor of Tony's garage/lab. Tony's eyes narrowed slightly, and he stood, stretching his arms far above his head and grunting at the cracks in his spine and shoulders. 

“Last I checked, I've been an adult for a hell of a lot longer than you.” he said, voice provocative, and he leaned against his workbench, crossing his arms. Steve's eyes shifted, and Tony's lips pulled into a smirk. He'd taken the bait. 

“I'm nearly one hundred years old, Tony.” Steve said, tense.

“You were frozen for, what, eighty of those years?” Tony snapped. “You're still a little boy playing house, Rogers. Leave me alone about what I do in my spare time.” 

Steve stepped toward him, eyes blazing, and something hot spiked in Tony's lower stomach, the heat sudden and sharp. Tony's hips moved slightly to accommodate the sudden change, but Steve paid no attention. 

“You're going to kill yourself.” Steve hissed. “I know losing Pepper is hard for you but--” 

“Drop it, Rogers.” Tony warned, fingers sliding into fists. He stood from the workbench, and though he wasn't as tall as Steve, he was only half a head shorter, and he knew he could be intimidating when he wanted to. Intimidating Steve Rogers was a bit of a feat, though, because he notoriously didn't like bullies, and while Tony wasn't a bully, per se, but he was certainly trying to get Steve to do something he didn't want to do. 

Which never worked. But Tony liked to watch Steve's eyes light up with anger, and his body language change, so it was almost always worth it. 

“I know it's hard but that doesn't mean you get to try to kill yourself, Ton--” 

Crack.

Steve stumbled back, eyes wide and watering as he brought a hand up to his jaw and his bottom lip, which was oozing blood into his mouth and down his chin. Tony shook out his fist, ignoring the dull, throbbing pain in his knuckles, because he wasn't about to give Steve the satisfaction of knowing that he'd caused himself pain too. 

Steve looked up, and his eyes were dark, his plump bottom lip split and bleeding, his jaw the tell-tale pinky-red of the beginning of a nasty bruise. He wiped the side of his hand over his bottom lip, smearing the blood, and he stepped toward Tony, fists gripped tight. 

He hit Tony hard, but not as hard as he could have. Tony fell back against the edge of his workbench, his lower spine slamming into it and surely bruising there. His head snapped back with the force of the hit, giving him minor whiplash. He snapped his head right back up, flashing Steve with a predatory grin, the blood from his split lip staining his teeth crudely. 

“Why, I'm offended,” Tony said, pushing off the workbench. “You're pulling.” he snarled as he aimed another blow for Steve's head. Steve ducked, however, and threw out a hit for Tony's stomach, which Tony caught with one hand and snapped his foot against the underside of Steve's jaw, sending him stumbling back. Steve growled and spat out a fat mouthful of blood onto the cement, and Tony assumed that he'd forced Steve to bite off the tip of his tongue. 

“Don't wanna kill you, Tone.” Steve slurred, Brooklyn accent prominent, and Tony licked his lips, the sting of his split lip travelling down into the muscles of his neck. “Don' even wanna hurt you.” Steve added, but he started back towards Tony regardless. 

Aim for the head, which Tony blocked, but it left him vulnerable on his other side, and Steve slammed his other fist into Tony's ribs, making him bite his tongue in the effort not to cry out. He brought his knee up, blinded by pain, hoping to get a half decent hit in, and sure enough, his knee connected with something Steve and Steve grunted. Tony blinked through the tears that had flooded his eyes and kicked at Steve's inner knee, de-stabalising him and causing him to drop. 

Joke's on Tony, though, because Steve kept his grip on Tony and he went down right along with him. Tony braced himself by catching himself on the cement on either side of Steve's head, straddling his lap. Steve's eyes were wide underneath him, and Tony wondered if he liked Steve under him more than he liked the look in his eyes when they fought. 

Then they were kissing as fiercely as they had been fighting, a mess of lips and teeth and tongues and blood, but it was good, so good, and Tony wasn't sure if he wanted to keep drinking when kissing Steve gave him a high like this. Steve's hands slid up to his hips and gripped there tight enough to bruise, and Tony hoped in the back of his mind that it would bruise. 

Steve flipped them over, so that Tony was trapped underneath him, their kiss broken only for the sake of breathing, hard and fast. Steve's teeth were at his throat, biting and sucking at the skin there, marking him right where his pulse was jackhammering, and Tony groaned, arching into him and tearing at the fabric of his hoodie. Steve broke and sat up on his knees, pulling off the hoodie and giving Tony a positively lust-filled look that sent another stab of heat into his lower stomach. 

“Off.” Steve ordered, gesturing to Tony's shirt, and Tony pulled himself up a little, wincing at the bruise in his ribs, but tugged off his shirt anyways. He threw it to the side and Steve dipped down to bite and lick at his collarbones, moving down to the tough scars around Tony's arc reactor, kissing them sloppily. Tony gasped and gripped Steve's shoulder's tightly, because no one paid any attention to his scars, not even--

“Fuck, Rogers,” Tony cursed, digging his fingers into Steve's hair and tugging him back up for a heated kiss, which Steve enthusiastically reciprocrated. Tony could feel him, pressed up against Tony, hot and hard and fucking huge compared to what Tony had assumed. He groaned as Steve rocked his hips into Tony's, and dug his fingers into Steve's back encouragingly. 

“Tony,” Steve growled, biting down on Tony's earlobe, and oh god Tony never wanted to hear anyone else say his name like that when Steve could do it so much better. Steve's hands roamed down to the waist of Tony's jeans, popping the button open and pressing his hand down, against Tony, making him hiss and arch into the touch. Steve grinned against Tony's chest, his teeth grazing Tony's nipple teasingly. 

“If you tease me for one more goddamn second, Rogers, I'll leave.” Tony snarled, looking down at Steve who was sucking marks into Tony's stomach, his hand wrapped firmly around Tony's cock. He looked up, tongue dipping into Tony's belly-button, causing him to squirm and gasp, half ticklish, half aroused. His eyes, though, were half lidded and a shade of intense blue that Tony had never see before. 

Steve flashed a grin, his tongue still sticking out slightly. “I don't think you're going anywhere,” he said, and Tony bit down on his tongue and let his head fall back against the cement with a thump. Fuck Steve and his stupid ability to see right through Tony. It was no goddamn fun. 

Tony blinked, and he felt minor resistance from his jeans before they were gone, removed from his body, and he looked over to see them in a torn, heaping mess. Tony gave a mournful whine, but then Steve flipped him over onto his stomach with minimal effort, and Tony felt himself get harder, if that was even possibly. Steve caught his hips before they pressed into the cold cement, forcing his ass into the air and his chest to be pressed against the floor. 

“Such a pretty picture,” Steve cooed, and Tony blushed hard as his boxers were, like his jeans, ripped from his body with ease, and his entrance was exposed. “I'd love to draw you like this, all hot and bothered.” Steve's hand grabbed handfulls of Tony's ass and kneaded it, spreading him and groaning appreciatively at the sight. Tony could only whine in response.

Then Steve's mouth was upon him, eating him out, teeth grazing his rim, tongue pressing into him, and he cried out, balling his hands in the attempt to grip something. Steve grinned against him crudely, and kept going, being messy and rough and Tony absolutely loved it. After a too-short amount of time, Steve pulled back, blowing cool air over Tony, making him whine, and then he spat into his hand and pressed two fingers into Tony. 

“Taste so good, honey,” Steve praised, voice low and rough. Tony saw stars as Steve's fingers pressed up against that bundle of nerves, and he moaned aloud, pressing his hips back against Steve. Steve huffed out breathless laughter and scissored his fingers, stretching Tony out. 

“Fuck me, already,” Tony snapped, panting. Steve leaned up, lining his hips up with Tony's ass and pressing against him firmly. Tony keened, whimpering like he was nothing more than a whore. Steve kept pressing his fingers in, adding a third and Tony gasped at the stretch. 

“I'm a little bigger than that,” Steve murmured, and he bit down on the juncture between Tony's shoulder and neck. Tony shivered and found that he couldn't speak anymore, not even if he wanted to. 

Steve pulled Tony up, spinning him around and kissing him filthily, making him taste himself on Steve's tongue. Tony groaned, pliant and more aroused than he'd been in the last few years. Steve pushed his arms so that they were wrapped around Steve's neck, kissing him fiercely, and suddenly Tony was being lifted up by the backs of his thighs like he weighed nothing. 

He was dropped against what he knew to be his worn and well-loved couch, and then turned over, so that his chest was pressed against the back of it. Steve dipped down and pressed his tongue, flat against Tony's already wet rim, pressing into him. Tony moaned, but Steve pulled away too soon for Tony's liking and he mourned the loss vocally, which Steve chuckled at and pressed a firm bite into Tony's shoulder. 

Then something blunt was being pushed into Tony, and Tony gasped, clutching the back of the sofa as Steve's cock pressed into him, impaling him, deeper and deeper until Tony knew that his stomach was buldging slightly and he felt like he was so full. Steve's hips were flush with Tony's ass, and Steve groaned, digging his fingers into Tony's hips almost painfully. 

“So tight,” Steve breathed. “Fuck.” Tony smiled to himself, breathless and pleased that he was having this affect on Steve Rogers, as much as he was having an affect on Tony. Steve slowly pulled out almost all the way, and then he slammed back in, and Tony would have screamed if he knew he could breathe. Steve groaned and leaned down, pressing a sloppy kiss to the middle of Tony's back, and he flipped him over without pulling out, and Tony whimpered. 

“Finally figured out how to shut you up,” Steve teased, running one hand over Tony's chest and his arc reactor. Tony looked up at Steve and made himself scowl at him, despite the fact that he looked like some kind of Greek god, his skin glistening with a slight sheen of sweat, a blush rising from his collarbones to his cheekbones. His cobalt blue eyes stared down at Tony with something other than just lust, and Tony swallowed, licking his split lip. 

Steve leaned down to kiss him, which Tony sighed happily into, and then Steve snapped his hips and Tony cried out, hands finding Steve's shoulders and his back, clawing him as he fucked into Tony, hard and rough and ruthless. 

It didn't take either of them long, and Tony didn't think too hard about it. When he came, he came hard, hard enough that he saw stars and stopped breathing as he cried out, and not long after, Steve's hips stuttered and Tony's name burst from his lips in a low growl. Tony actually felt Steve filling him up, and he moaned feebly at the sensation. 

Steve's head dropped onto Tony's shoulder, cock still pulsing inside of Tony, brushing that magic spot that made Tony gasp and writhe. His breath was coming in heavy bursts, and Tony's was the same, his heart still jackhammering against his ribs. Steve was warm, and his skin was soft, even if it was sweaty, and he smelled like cloves and paper. Tony let his eyes fall shut and only barely resisted the urge to pull Steve closer. 

Where was that coming from? So they'd fucked, that didn't mean they had to be lovers now. He didn't want that. 

(Yes he did, yes he did, he really needed to start being honest with himself)

Steve pulled out, slowly, and Tony grimaced at the loss. Steve murmured something along the lines of I know, I'm sorry, and then he was reaching down for his sweats and his hoodie, and Tony was left sitting on the couch, Steve's cum leaking out from him. He reached down and pressed some of it back in, a little shocked at how stretched out he was. He somehow managed to get to his feet, shaking slightly, and then he dropped back down, whining at the dull ache in his ass. 

“Need me to get you some clothes?” Steve asked, stepping back over to him, and Tony shook his head, wincing at the bruise forming on his ribs. Steve leaned down and brushed Tony's hand out of the way, making a face at the damage he'd done. 

“Didn't peg you to be gay,” Tony murmured, and Steve snorted and shook his head, walking over to Tony's minifridge and grabbing something that Tony wasn't looking to hard at. When he returned, he pressed the something against Tony's bruise carefully, and Tony hissed, lurching away. 

“Hey. Stay still. I know it's cold but it's going to help.” Steve said, and Tony reluctantly obeyed. 

“Don't need you to play doctor. I can take care of myself.” Tony hissed, and Steve looked up at him with a sharp look in his eyes. 

“Sure. Because you're doing such a great job by drinking yourself half to death every night.” he muttered sarcastically, and Tony tensed, which didn't go unnoticed by Steve, who let out a soft breath. Tony adjusted his seating, wincing both at the cold and the ache in his ass. 

“You made your point, punctuted by the fucking. I get it, Rogers. I should stop drinking so much.” Tony seethed, and Steve paused, looking up at him with a blank expression. Tony raised his eyebrows. Steve shook his head and looked back down at what Tony realised was a can of coke, pressed up against his side. 

“Just...keep this on there for a bit.” Steve said and Tony huffed, though Steve sounded...defeated? Was that the word? Tony ignored it, though, as Steve stood up and Tony replaced his hands over the can of coke, which he was going to drink as soon as Steve left the room. Steve walked over to a set of drawers next to one of Tony's workbenches and pulled it open, gathering up what Tony saw was clothing. 

“Here. I'm going to go order you something to eat. Any preferences?” Steve said, dropping the clothing where he'd just vacated. Tony bit his split lip, hissing at the pain, and adjusted the can so that the cooler part was against his ribs. 

“Thanks mom. Yea. Something from that Thai place down the street.” Tony sneered, and Steve gave him a flat look before sighing and turning around. 

Then he was gone. 

Tony let out a breath that had been taking too much effort to hold in, and his body went lax as he leaned into the cushions. He was leaking into the fabric, he could feel it, and the sensation had him feeling like he'd be up for another round. He pulled the can away from his ribs and opened it, slupring at the fizzy liquid that was more sugar than it was anything else. It was not as cold as he wanted, but he didn't mind much. 

He stood, letting himself wince aloud at everything that ached, and stumbled awkwardly into the lab's/garage's safety shower, still holding the Coke in one hand. He imagined he looked something like a penguin as he waddled over, and was glad that no one was there to witness. It had been a while since he'd had sex with a guy, and Steve hadn't exactly been gentle. 

Though, in a way, it had been exactly what Tony needed. 

The water flicked on, immediately Tony's preferred temperature, and he stepped under the spray, sighing happily. He smoothed his hair back, the can of Coke resting by the glass doorway, safe from the water, and the glass shifted from clear to partially frosted, so that from Tony's shoulder's down, nothing was visible. His fingers brushed over rapdily purpling hickeys, and he shivered at how sensitive they were. 

Steve had marked his territory and done it well, which Tony liked, liked a lot, but it didn't make sense in his head. He was tired, though, and still hung over, so he didn't think too hard about it. He washed up, cleansing himself of almost everything that could prove that he and Steve really had fucked like animals (except for the hickeys and bruises of course), and stepped out, wrapping a flimsy towel around his waist. 

Sure enough, he'd stained the couch, but he figured he'd be able to wash it out without too much trouble. He grabbed the pile of clothing and pulled them on, his hair still dripping, and then cleaned his couch. Once everything was done with, including the rest of his Coke, he dropped onto the couch and closed his eyes and was asleep without even realising.


	2. (bonus! because I couldn't just leave it, now could I?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is one I wrote because I didn't like how I left things. it also sort of helps me be able to continue the series, which requires some things to be explained here before I continue. 
> 
> SO. without further ado, enjoy some more smut, some fluff and some happy feels.

~

Someone was lifting him, someone with a broad chest and a steady heartbeat, someone who smelled like pencils and pleasing soap and cinammon. As soon as he became aware of being lifted, he wanted to squirm and growl because he was comfy and warm, but as the scent washed over him, he immediately went lax. There was a soft chuckle as soon as he relaxed, but he was slipping back into sleep far too quickly to react.

Home, he thought groggily. Safe. Warm. Home.

~

“Shove it, Cap!” Tony cried, rushing down the corridors and pushing past Steve, who had been yawning and heading back to his room to sleep some more before it hit five am. Tony skipped over the steps leading down into the common room, which sounded like something out of a J.K Rowling novel, grabbing the edge of the wall and using his speed to his advantage, turning the corner sharply and sliding with his socks which were the exact opposite of grippy. No traction whatsoever, but Tony liked them like that. Easier to get around. 

“Tony--!” Steve gasped, and Tony glanced over his shoulder to see Cap following him, looking panicked and concerned. Tony just grinned wolfishly and kept speeding with his slidey socks towards the door leading out into the huge expanse of land that he called 'the backyard'. 

The rest of the Team was sleeping, which, sucked for them, because Tony was having far too much fun to be sleeping at a time like this. Steve had very nicely poured out all of his liquor down the sink as soon as he woke up from his two-day long nap, and Tony had just looked at him and nodded once, letting him continue. 

Since then, however, Tony had found something else to keep his mind off of the shitty parts of himself and his life. It was a beautiful thing he called a 'controlled high', which was just a fancy term for his continued search for a big enough adrenaline rush that he felt giddy. It really wasn't hard, being a genuis who could build rockets and could fly in a suit of metal, so he'd been at it for the past week since the lab incident, which he and Steve had pretended hadn't happened. 

Or. Tony was pretending it didn't happen for his own sake. He was not going to fall in love again, thank you very much, and nor was he going to acknowledge the fact that he probably already was in love with Steve Rogers. No more love. No more pulling on Tony Stark's heartstrings. He was done with that. 

He kicked open the door, which wasn't as easy a feat as one would assume, and stepped out into the backyard, breathing a little heavier than normal, a gentle smirk on his lips. He looked up at the sky, where he could see his rocket was coming back, and he heard Steve step outside with him, his heart beating just that much faster at the idea of Steve being beside him. 

The rocket landed with a loud crash, and Tony grinned like a kid on Christmas morning, marching towards it. 

“Tony, what the hell?” Steve called, but Tony ignored him. He typed in the code, which was 1945, for no reason whatsoever, and the compartment opened with a hiss, and he reached inside, plucking out the several samples of Vibranium and other incredibly rare metals that he was definitely looking forward to using. He held each of them up to the fading moon, turning them and watching the light reflect off of them. 

Yes, he had stolen luxury metals from secret Government bases without their knowledge. They wouldn't know it was him, which wasn't something Tony was actually worried about, but it was better to be safe than sorry. If they did somehow find out it was him, he'd be able to smooth the feathers he'd fucked with and everything would be perfectly fine. 

“Tony—are those--” Steve muttered, and Tony turned to look into Steve's cobalt blue eyes that reflected the stars and the moon as naturally as if they existed inside his iris's. He smirked and passed one of the glass vials of samples into Steve's hands, which made him fumble and nearly drop it. 

“Wouldn't drop that if I was you, Capsicle.” Tony mumbled, looking at his several other samples. He turned and flashed Steve with a predatory smile, all teeth. “Pretty valuable stuff.” 

Steve gave Tony a narrow look and held the sample up to the light, like Tony had. He probably has no idea what he's holding, Tony mused affectionately, and he turned his gaze back to the samples, pulling his shirt up into a pouch and dropping the vials into it. There were about ten in total, and each was probably worth half a million. Steve reached over and let his sample rest with the rest of them, his breath warm against Tony's neck, where his hickeys were fading but not quite gone yet. 

Tony shivered and turned on his heel as soon as he had all the samples, heading back towards the compound where he could start to work with the metals. 

“Tony.” Steve called before he got too far away, and Tony turned back around, eyebrows raised. 

Steve was standing with his hands tucked into his jeans, which he'd been wearing all day, and were just a shade darker than his eyes. The hoodie he was wearing, which was the one he'd been wearing the day of the incident, was adorned with a the outline of a star in the center of his chest, something Tony hadn't paid any attention to the last time. His hair was a bit of a mess, which meant that he hadn't had an easy day, because one of Steve's nervous habits was to rake his hands ruthlessly through his hair. 

There was a look in his eyes that made Tony stop, just for a moment, and the walls he built around himself were falling down, crumbling into useless heaps of rock and steel. 

Steve walked up to him, some of his incredibly blonde hair falling over his forehead, and Tony licked his lips as Steve leaned down and sought his mouth, kissing him slowly and gently, almost as if he thought that if he was too much, he would scare Tony away. 

He could never scare me away, Tony realised mildly, and his hands slipped from holding his makeshift shirt-pouch and found their way around Steve's neck, the vials filled with metals clattering to the ground. Steve's arms wrapped around Tony's waist, pulling him close, and though his grip was tight, his lips remained soft and pliant, letting Tony make the moves he wanted to. 

Tony's tongue dragged along Steve's bottom lip, and Steve made a soft, breathless noise as he allowed Tony access. He tasted like chocolate and shortbread, and Tony licked the taste from him greedily, something like a moan escaping his throat and Steve swallowed the sound, pressing against Tony a little more firmly. He bit down on Tony's lip, not hard, but firm enough to almost sting, and a bolt of heat pierced Tony's lower stomach in reminder of the incident. 

“Tony--” Steve gasped as they broke, simply for the need of proper oxygen, and the fact that Steve seemed to have a thing for marking Tony's neck like an animal. “Shouldn't we—talk about this?” he asked, teeth grazing Tony's shoulder as his hand pulled Tony's shirt out of the way. Tony just bit back a groan and pulled away, tugging Steve towards the compound like they were in highschool and stealing borrowed time. 

His back hit the stone wall of the building, and Steve was upon him within a second, kissing him hungrily, his hands sliding over Tony's waist, pulling his shirt up for access to his skin. Tony shivered at the contact and leaned up on his toes, hands tangling themselves in Steve's hair. Steve moved his leg so that it was between Tony's, making it so that both men felt exactly what was going on with the other, and Tony choked on a groan as the pressure of Steve's thigh against him increased--

It was Pepper's ringtone on Tony's phone, loud and clear and very sobering. Tony jumped, and Steve stepped back, breathless and licking his lips. Tony swallowed, making his breathing slow to a normal pace before he reached into the pocket of his sweats and pulled out his phone. He looked up at Steve, who shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair. Tony licked his lips and swallowed again before answering the call. 

“Pepper,” he said. “ What can I do for you?” 

The truth was, she wasn't supposed to call him. The last argument they'd had was one that included I never want to see you again from Pepper, her voice shrilly, and Good! I don't want to ever hear from you again from Tony, a roar from across the house that Tony had once lived in and shared with her. It was a mutual agreement that they were going to stay out of each other's ways if they couldn't be civil. Tony didn't think they could be, not with her unbelievably frustrating and entitled insults that did the relationship no good. 

“I'm going to be at the gala tomorrow night.” Pepper said, her voice unnaturally flat. Tony recognised that she'd probably drunk some wine before calling, and felt his fingers itch for a glass of whiskey. He ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes in frustration. 

“Why? There's no need for you to be there.” Tony asked, trying to remove the sharp, bitter tone from his voice. Pepper sighed, and there was a beat of silence. Tony opened his eyes and saw that Steve was no longer in front of him, but instead he had started to gather up the samples of metals that Tony had so gracefully dropped in order to kiss him. He was giving Tony his privacy, which was something that made Tony's heart tug with affection. 

“I want to see how you're doing. Really.” she finally admitted, and Tony's stomach turned into a tight fist. “Besides. I miss going to the galas. I wanted to give you some kind of warning, I guess.” She didn't miss the galas. She missed him. 

“Gotta go. Guess I'll see you tomorrow then.” Tony said sharply, hanging up before Pepper had the chance to say goodbye. He let out a breath and looked back up at Steve, who had put the metals inside the compound (Tony didn't know this for sure, all he knew was that they weren't anywhere in sight), and was standing nearby in case Tony called him over. At the sound of him hanging up, he turned to look at Tony. 

“Pepper?” he asked, and Tony nodded dumbly. “Are you okay?” 

Tony blinked, and he focused on Steve. Beautiful, perfect, handsome Steve. He reached out, discovering that Steve was within arms reach after all, and pulled him back, standing on his toes to kiss Steve. Steve hesitated, but in the end he caved, his hands on Tony's waist, pressing him back into the wall.

“Hold me,” Tony breathed between kisses. “Hold me, please, Steve,” and his words were cut off by a choke, and he felt fat hot tears running down his cheeks, and he couldn't stop them, couldn't hold back the choking sobs and the breathless pleads for comfort. Steve pulled back and ran his thumbs over Tony's cheekbones, wiping the tears away, and he kissed him chastely, sweetly. 

“Okay,” Steve murmured, holding Tony close and lifting him, carrying him back inside. Tony just cried, his tears absorbed by the material of Steve's hoodie,making dark wet spots on his shoulder and his chest. He gripped at Steve helplessly, and he felt so lost, and so lonely, like he was six years old again and Howard didn't approve of anything he did and his mother wasn't doing anything against him, and the only person he had in the world was Jarvis. 

Except now that person was Steve. And he was probably going to lose him because he couldn't keep his damned feelings under wrap. There was no chance that Steve could ever love him. He was likely in love with Barnes, someone who knew him and was inherently good despite the awful brainwashing that he'd suffered. Or Natasha. Hell, anyone other than Tony. 

Pepper had effectively destroyed his heart. Steve had somehow glued it back together while Tony wasn't looking. Now, after more than a year, she wanted back in and worst of all, Tony wanted to let her back in. He wanted to cave, to let his life be ruled by people who didn't know what or how to deal with him. Sort of like that poison that tasted incredibly sweet, what was it? Antifreeze? 

Tony's back hit the cushioning of his bed, and he realised with a sniff of relief that the tears had mostly subsided. Steve was still hovering above him, seeming unsure if he should stay or go, so Tony reached up and grabbed the collar of his hoodie, tugging him down. It was dark, dark enough that the only light was muffled by the fabric of his t-shirt. 

Subsequently, they started kissing again, because Tony was going to savour every damn moment of being allowed to kiss Steve Rogers without repercussion. Steve seemed hesitant, which proved to Tony that when he wasn't high from adrenaline or full of anger, he was a diehard gentleman who rarely did morally wrong things. For example, have sex with Tony right after Tony finished crying from a phone-call from his ex wife who broke his heart. 

Tony bit down on Steve's bottom lip. “I want to feel something, Steve,” he murmured. It wasn't a lie. He felt oddly numb after the call and the tears, which wasn't out of the ordinary for him, but he didn't want to stay that way. He wanted to be grounded, not out of his mind. It was the first time he wanted sex over a drink, and there was a moment of pride for his progress. 

“I don't have last time in me, right now.” Steve admitted, and his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment about being so bold about it. Tony wanted to tell him that last time didn't have to be a normal thing, that he could fuck Tony in any and every way and Tony still wouldn't think differently about him. Tony licked his lips, tasting shortbread, and ran his fingers carefully through Steve's hair. 

“Doesn't have to be last time.” Tony whispered. Steve licked his bottom lip, which was a slightly more swollen from Tony's biting, and nodded, ducking down and kissing Tony slowly. 

Oh, Tony thought. Slow had never been his forte. Slow and gentle and caring was not something Tony Stark had ever been and therefore, seldom experienced it. But this, the soft tentative touches of Steve's hands on his body, and his kisses that felt like clouds, he really liked this. He didn't know how to mimic it, though, and he was a little scared to, because he wasn't sure if he could handle being wrong in a situation like this. 

“You taste like shortbread,” Tony gasped as Steve kissed down his jaw and to where his pulse was visibly hammering, where one of his brutal hickeys was now mostly faded. Steve snorted into his skin and Tony smiled softly, cheeks stilll plastic-feeling from his tears. Steve sucked at his skin, and it was so gentle that it almost tickled, but Tony found himself arching his back and a groan escaping from him. 

Damn Steve Rogers for making him so sensitive. 

“Probably 'cause I baked earlier,” Steve mumbled and his tongue prodded Tony's earlobe. Tony giggled, actually giggled, but he felt Steve's smile against his cheek and if nothing else, it was worth Steve smiling. Steve kissed him again, once, and Tony chased him before he sat up with a smile that wasn't smug or self-assured, but that was affectionate and made Tony far too hopeful for his own good. 

He reached down and pulled off his hoodie, and this time, instead of whatever he'd done last time, because he really couldn't remember right now, he reached up and let his hands brush over Steve's chest, sliding up and over his shoulders and bringing him down. Tony moved his legs, accommodating Steve's hips and wrapping them around his waist, which made Steve even closer than he'd been before, and Tony didn't know if it was torture or a blessing. 

“Mind if I?” Steve whispered, pulling at the hem of Tony's shirt. Tony nodded permission, and Steve's hands slid up his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. The arc reactor, whose light was now pure and bright, lit up Steve's eyes as he looked down at it, and there was an expression there that Tony didn't know what to do with. He leaned down, and like last time, paid attention to the scars around his mechanical heart. 

“Hah,” Tony gasped. Steve grinned against his chest. Now that was a smug grin. “Steve—I--” 

“Shh.” Steve breathed, kissing Tony softly. “I've got you.” 

That broke Tony. 

He leaned up into the kiss, this time more desperately, and he pulled Steve down so that they were chest to chest, and Steve's heat was becoming his own. He rocked his hips up against Steve's eliciting a groan from him, and a change of heartbeat for Tony. 

Tony's mind short-circuited, because Steve palmed him through his sweatpants, and it wasn't supposed to be that intense, but it was, and the next rational thought was that Steve's fingers were cold and they were both completely naked. He whined and pulled away, but Steve shushed him and pressed almost-loving kisses to Tony's collarbones, coaxing him into the temperature change. 

“I know, I'm sorry, but it'll be warm soon.” Steve cooed, and Tony believed him and let him press into Tony, slow and gentle, and sure enough, he was right. He slid in and out of Tony, scissoring and prepping him, and Tony was a panting, moaning mess of need and love. He didn't even care anymore. If Steve saw how much he loved him, then fine. At least then he could start being honest. 

“So pretty, Tony,” Steve murmured, pressing a kiss to Tony's flat stomach as he added a third finger, brushing up against that spot that had Tony keening and seeing stars, the pleasure washing over him like waves of the ocean. The praise just added onto it, and sometimes it was so intense that he couldn't breathe, but it wasn't enough. It was too much and not enough and he didn't know what words were, couldn't use his silver tongue to so much as utter an audible syllable. 

Steve's fingers were gone, and they could have been pulling him apart for hours, but Tony didn't know if it was hours or minutes. Then Steve was slicking himself up, kissing Tony as gently as if it were the first date. He pushed in, slowly, and Tony just exhaled, eyes wide and dazed from all the pleasure that wasn't enough to send him over the edge. Steve spread him, piercing him, impaling him, and he was so full and warm. He blinked, and hot tears slid down his cheeks. Steve leaned up, murmuring to him and wiping them away. 

“I've got you,” he breathed, and he slowly rocked into Tony. “I've got you.” Tony just moaned, breathless, keeping Steve close, keeping his lips within kissing distance. His cheeks were still wet, but that didn't matter, because Steve had him. 

Hours, maybe, passed, and only when Steve told him he could, he let go and came, gently and the hardest in his life at the same time. He choked on Steve's name, and Steve followed suit almost immediately after, 

Sunlight burst into the room, and Tony could have laughed at how cliché and cheesy it was. He'd left his curtains drawn, and though he almost always slept through the morning, he was always awake for the sunrise. It was why he chose this to be his bedroom; it was one of the two that had windows facing East. 

He turned his head to look out his window, his breathing heavy. The clouds were an array of peaches and pinks, the trees that surrounded the compound so green that it was almost black. Slices of blue were visible in the gaps between the clouds, and Tony felt a sense of satisfaction settle over himself, something that seldom happened. He turned back to Steve, who was sitting back on his knees, still panting, still inside of Tony. 

His eyes were out the window too, his pupils blown, a thin ring of a blue that Tony had never seen before as his iris's. His lips were a shade darker than normal, and glistening from his saliva in the sun. His hair was a golden mess, but Tony thought he liked it better all messy. It made him seem a little more human. His skin, whichw as paler than Tony's, had a light sheen of sweat over it, and he seemed to glow. 

This is all I want, Tony thought. Sunrises and Steve sharing my bed. I don't think anything else could make me so happy.

Steve looked down at him, and blushed when he realised that Tony was looking at him. Tony wasn't sure about the expression on his face, or the look in his eyes, but he didn't think it mattered much. Steve carefully pulled out, making Tony hiss, but he very quickly made it up to him by kissing him and laying down beside him. Tony reached and pulled the covers over the both of them, snuggling up to Steve's chest. Steve automatically put his arms around Tony and kissed the crown of his head, making Tony's heart throb in a painfully good way. 

“I want you to come with me to the gala.” Tony whispered. Steve's fingers slid through his slightly sweaty hair and he hummed softly as a response. 

“She's going to be there?” Steve asked, words a low rumble, and Tony nodded, letting his eyes fall shut to the sound of Steve's heartbeat. “Okay. I'll go with you. On one condition, though.” Steve said, and Tony sat up a little to look at him. 

“Mhm?” 

Steve smiled. “Only if it's a date.” 

Tony's heart burst and he couldn't stop the smile even if he wanted to. He laughed, a full laugh that came up from his stomach and filled the room, something that hadn't happened in years. He leaned down and pressed his mouth to the corner of Steve's mouth, still grinning. His cheeks were starting to hurt, but he couldn't find it in himself to care, because the pain of smiling was something he didn't even know he'd missed. 

“I wouldn't have it any other way.” he mumbled against Steve's mouth, and then Steve was smiling too. 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i might actually add another chapter. MIGHT. I can't make promises, I suck at updating on time, except for yk, this once in a blue moon time. that and I actually feel really into this series SO. 
> 
> let me know if you want a chapter that regards the gala and Steve being a bamf and all that, because yes, he will totally go against Pepper if I do another chapter. (no offence to Pepper, she just isn't my favourite bean)
> 
> comments! kudos! all that! (things you'd like to see in another (maybe) chapter?)
> 
> <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3


	3. another bonus chapter because i needed it, okay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooh boy. okay. SO.
> 
> As per request of AstraLeora, I have another chapter, and it's from Steve's perspective. Honestly, I had considered this before it was suggested to me, but I'd forgotten, so thank you AstraLeora so much for reminding me. 
> 
> this is the end of this fic, but I will be starting a new one to add to the series! (also this chapter might be a little short? I don't know what short is to you guys but this feels like a good ending.) (I also should mention that nothing i post is beta'd. so mistakes are my own, I apologise if there are any.)
> 
> enjoy!

“--and you'll have to make sure I steer clear of the bar, because I swear, it's like a fuckin magnet to metal with me--” 

Steve pulled out a red tie, looking at it with a frown on his face. Tony was rambling, again, for the third time in the past two hours, and Steve had decided to let him run through whatever stressed energy he had instead of trying to get Tony to stop. It was like trying to herd cats with Tony, no matter how much Steve tried to calm him down, he wasn't going to. It was against his nature. 

He looked down at himself. White button down, tucked into navy blue pants, with a jacket that was the same shade as his pants. Everything was incredibly expensive and made of material he didn't know the name of, and, of course, picked out by Tony. It was from a while ago, when Tony dragged everyone into the tailor's, someone who was in a small but wealthy shop and spoke only Italian. Tony, who Steve had gaped at after discovering, apparently fluently spoke the language as smoothly as he did English. Within what felt like twelve hours, the entire team had been fitted, and he'd ordered everyone at least three outfits each. 

Even Natasha, who was generally very good at picking out what to wear, let him choose. Steve was pleasantly surprised to find that Tony had impeccable taste, including the colours that would go with their skin tones and their hair colours. 

He'd probably vomit if Steve tried to wear a red tie with a blue suit, even if it did complete the whole 'Captain America' colour scheme. 

“Oh, honey, no.” Tony said, breaking off from his rambling, and Steve turned with his eyebrows raised. Tony walked over, pulled Steve away from the dresser and snatched the tie from Steve's hand. Steve just worked on not smiling, because Tony was kind of like a mother-hen sometimes, and it was pretty adorable to watch. Tony neatly folded the tie up in one swift motion, like he'd been doing it his entire life, and tucked it back into the dresser, turning back to Steve. 

“One, I figure you should move your stuff into my room because honestly, Peter needs a bedroom here,” Tony said, smoothing out the fabric of Steve's shirt, his hands warm through the fabric. Steve couldn't help but smile at that. The equivalent of asking him to move in and he wasn't even asking. “Two, you are definitely a no-tie guy.” Tony added, and he took a step back, eyeing Steve critically. 

Steve spread his arms, then tucked his hands into the pockets, then turned around and stuck his butt out at Tony, leaning against the dresser like he was a show-girl from the 40s. Tony snickered and swatted playfully at him, and Steve spun around and kissed him before he could start talking again. Tony, though, continued to be Tony, and while h kissed Steve, he pulled open the first few buttons of Steve's shirt, and then stepped back. 

“Yup.” he said, popping the 'p'. “That's you.” 

“I should go do my hair before we leave,” Steve said, glancing at his watch that Tony had also bought him a while ago, and Tony made a very firm and assured mn-mn. Steve looked back at him, brow furrowed. His hair was a disaster, not neat at all, and a mess falling over his forehead. It was in no state to be seen by probably the whole world by the end of the night, judging on how much press was going to be at the gala. 

“Tony--” he pleaded, and Tony shook his head. 

“Trust me. I like the hair messy. I betcha the rest of world will too.” he said, smile tugging at his mouth. Steve sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face and very aware of its existence. “Mm. I changed my mind. Go. I'll be here.” Tony said quickly, and Steve snorted.

“Why's that?” 

“I would rather be the only one to see your hair messy.” 

Steve grinned and walked off to his bathroom, which wasn't going to be his bathroom for much longer, flicking on the lights. 

The truth was, he was glad that Tony asked him to go along with him. Not because he thought that Tony was going to drink himself stupid, but because of the fact that Pepper was going to be there. Tony hadn't said much, but Steve had been watching Tony and his tells and his giveaways for as long as he'd known him, and he gathered that Pepper wasn't exactly happy alone, now that it was all said and done. 

The idea of her, waltzing up to him in some pretty dress, her hair all done up, and trying to sway him back into her life? It made him sick with anger. He generally liked Pepper, when she and Tony had been married. He had never held anything against her just because he'd fallen in love with her husband, and he never tried to sway Tony away from her. It had sucked, sure, but he'd lived his whole life loving and being invisible, so it wasn't like much had changed. When he moved out, after Steve tried to kill him in Siberia (which, for the record, made Steve want to throw up until he couldn't breathe every single time he thought of it), Steve hadn't said anything. He'd given him the phone, ran away with Bucky, left the Avengers in ruins. 

He was lucky that Tony had forgiven him. He was lucky he listened when Steve said he was sorry in almost every way he could think of. He was lucky that Tony stopped flinching, eventually. He was lucky that Stephen Strange knew what to do to bring Tony back, with an added bonus called 'here's your youth back'. He was lucky that he got to kiss Tony, and hold him, and, hopefully, be loved back by him. In fact, Steve thought he was the luckiest person in the world, and he seldom believed in luck. 

If Pepper tried to sink her claws back into him, a man she'd already destroyed once, Steve was going to politely remind her that she had made her decision, and she'd better stick to it. He despised bullies, especially the kind that used and took advantage of the people like Tony, who gave and gave and gave until there was nothing left to give, and then he still gave. 

Steve knew that if he wasn't careful, he would end up taking and taking from Tony, just like Pepper had. 

His hair now neatly styled, but not so much that it looked like he had grease instead of hair, he paused to look in the mirror. The bruise that Tony had given him was gone, but if he thought about it now, he could still feel it. He brushed his jaw with his fingers. 

I vow to protect and love Tony, to make him happy and give him the life he deserves. 

He walked out of the bedroom to find Tony on the phone, talking fast in a language that Steve recognised as French. He was leaning against the side of Steve's dresser, his jacket removed and his sleeves rolled up. He had chosen to wear a sharp burgundy suit that brought out the dark chocolate of his hair and eyes, and, from a completely neutral artist's point of view, he looked good enough to eat. 

He stepped up to Tony and slid a hand onto his shoulder, and Tony turned to look at him. He said something curtly in French and then hung up, letting out a breath and quickly unrolling his sleeves. He picked up his cufflinks, which Steve thought looked like diamonds, and did up his sleeves. 

“Are you sure about this?” Tony asked, and though his movements were swift and delibrate, his voice was soft, almost hesitant. Steve blinked, surprised. He'd wanted to ask Tony that, because he was Tony Stark and Steve was just...well, Steve. “You're Captain America. There's going to be an uproar when they see us together, like we are, and PR isn't going to like it one bit, and I know you probably want your reputation to be spotless because you're you--” 

Steve cut off Tony's rambling with a kiss on the tip of his nose. He hadn't expected it to work so well, but he was pleased with the results. Tony licked his lips and blinked a few times before Steve watched him relax. 

'I don't give a shit what PR or anyone has to say about my sexuality and who I'm dating.” Steve said kindly, but firmly. His hands were on Tony's waist, thumbs tracing soothing circles against him, and he knew that Tony could feel what he was saying through the touch. He'd always been like that, and it was one of the many things Steve loved about him. “I am entirely sure I want to do this.” 

Tony nodded and he leaned into Steve, his face landing in the crook of his neck. He nuzzled there, like a cat, and Steve smiled, wrapping his arms around Tony. 

“I don't know what I did to deserve you,” Tony's muffled voice came, barely audible against Steve's skin, sending vibrations through Steve's shoulders. Steve felt his heart tug at the words, and he just held Tony a little tighter, hoping it would make up for what he couldn't seem to find words for. 

They were in the car before Steve realised just how badly he wanted to tell Pepper to fuck off. How badly he wanted to tell everyone to fuck off. He knew that he was nowhere near Tony's league, but he knew that he'd be able to love him in the way he deserved. He couldn't say that for everyone else, who had taken advantage or used him. He felt his fingertips buzzing with anticipation, because, finally, he was allowed to do something about the way Tony was treated. 

If Pepper decided to bat her eyelashes at Tony, he'd make sure she knew that if she wanted him, she should've kept him when she had the chance. 

“Steve.” 

Steve turned away from the window to face Tony, who, he realised with mild horror, had been watching him, and had probably seen his anger in the clenching of his jaw, and the tapping of his fingers against his thigh. 

“How long have you been waiting to do this?” he asked, and Steve swallowed. For someone who couldn't tell his own problems from a hole in the ground, he sure knew how to get to the root of the issue without much foreplay. 

“You know, I don't know.” Steve admitted, looking down at his knuckles. “The beginning. I couldn't—it was incredibly difficult to watch.” Tony covered his hand with his own, and his touch was light, like a feather, and Steve wondered darkly if Tony was scared because he thought Steve would hit him. His stomach clenched into a knot and he felt the urge to throw up. 

“Good.” Tony said, and Steve's stomach loosened mostly from sheer shock. He looked at Tony, who wasn't looking at him, but who was gripping his hand tightly. “Channel that tonight. I don't like it when you pull your punches.” 

Steve stared at him, eyebrows raised. 

I don't trust a guy without a dark side. Call me old fashioned.

Well, let's just say you haven't seen it yet. 

Steve smiled. Protecting his loved ones was his dark side. The side of him that would do absolutely anything for Tony. The side that would kill for him. The side that took pleasure in watching the people who had hurt Tony suffer and squirm uncomfortably, or, sometimes, in pain. The side that had stood up for dames on the streets. The side that had marched into that Hydra Camp to save Bucky. The side that had defended Bucky despite his budding feelings for Tony. The side that he took with him to battle. 

He looked back out the window at the passing traffic, giving Tony's hand a gentle squeeze. 

He'd do anything for Tony, and he thought that Tony might just know that. 

~

Camera's flashed as soon as Tony stepped out on his side of the car, and they were quickly angled to capture photos of Steve, who was on the other side, buttoning up his jacket and offering the surrounding crowd a smile that was real enough for Steve. Tony waited for him, something that Steve hadn't expected, and held out his hand. Steve's smile shifted when he and Tony locked eyes, to one that was more intimate, and he took Tony's hand. 

There was a roar from the press, a symphony of Mr Rogers! Captain America! Mr Stark! Tony ignored it, making his way up to the front doors, and Steve followed, on his immediate right. As soon as they'd breached the doors, the shrieks begging for their attention were drowned out, and instead they were listening to pleasant classical music with a live Orchestra on stage. 

“Something to drink?” Steve murmured, leaning down. Tony hummed and smiled at people who had turned to look at them, their eyes quickly shifting to their clasped hands. Steve wanted to smirk at the lot of them, but could feel that Tony felt naked and vulnerable, so he refrained. Tony pulled them headfirst into the crowd, his hand tight around Steve's, and Steve squeezed him once, to check if he was conscious of his grip.

No squeeze back. He was completely in his own head. Concern rose in Steve, but he swallowed it down. Now wasn't the time, or the place. 

Tony was very quickly swept up into a very complicated conversation regarding physics with an older woman and man who were both wearing emerald coloured clothing, and Steve leaned down, lips brushing the shell of Tony's ear to tell him that he was going to get something to drink, and would he like anything? Tony replied that something with a shitload of sugar would do nicely, and Steve nodded, walking away. 

Every time Steve went to one of these galas, he felt a bit like he was in the middle of a fairytale. Everyone was dressed up in gowns and suits and jewels that shone brighter than the chandeliers hanging delicately above them, eating and drinking food and wine that was worth more than their clothes, which was saying something. He could play the part easily, though. He could act like he fit right in, and not like he'd grown up with barely enough to eat with Bucky working almost constantly sometimes for medicine that would save his scrawny hide. It was playing Captain America, because that's where people's sight seemed to stopped. 

No, he wasn't Steve Rogers, an artist when he had the time, someone who ate sweets until he threw up and then kept eating them. He was Captain America, patriotic hero, someone who was a good ol' white Christian boy who would marry another good ol' white Christian girl and have three or four children. 

He was looking forward to proving them wrong. 

“Hello, what can I get you?” a pretty blonde asked sweetly behind the bar, and Steve leaned in closer, smiling shyly, like he knew she'd love. Sure enough, her cheeks went a little pinker, but to her credit, she managed to keep composure. 

“Well, I'd ask what your sweetest drink was, but that'd have to be you, wouldn't it?” he said smoothly, letting his Brooklyn accent colour the words just a hint. She blushed harder, and giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“If you're looking for something with some kick in it, you'll want a Malibu Sunset.” she said, stumbling over her words slightly. “If you just want something sweet, best I can do you is a Coke with a shot of extra sweetness in there.” Steve smiled again, licking his bottom lip. Her eyes dropped to the movement, and her pupils dialated further. 

“Mind making me a coke then, sweetheart?” he asked, voice just a hint lower, and she nodded dumbly, beet red. He winked at her flawlessly and spun around to see if he could find Tony. 

He had watched Bucky do this almost every single night they went out dancing, or when they were simply out and he was looking to be his charming old self, so this was easy. Bucky had explained it to him one night, when they were young and he was feeling up Miss Addy Laursen behind the stands in their cheap school field when no one was watching. He told Steve about what got dames hot, and what would let you in quicker than anyone else, and Steve, of course, had been fascinated. 

He was mildly surprised how easily it came to him, seeing as he'd never really had any practice outside of really flirting with dames. 

Tony caught his eye, and they made eye contact as Tony was avidly speaking about something that required both of his hands, and he paused, lips pulling into a fond smile. Steve returned it, and turned back to the blonde behind the bar. 

“Here you go,” she said, and Steve noted that she had gathered some of her composure back, though her cheeks were still a pretty pink. He smiled at her, and took the drink, along with a napkin that he knew had her number scrawled on it, and walked away, back to Tony. Once he knew he was out of her sight, he took the napkin and shoved it into his pocket. He wasn't going to use it. Honestly, the only reason he'd flirted with her a bit was because he wasn't sure if Tony wanted to publicly announce anything officially, or if he wanted to leave it to interpretation. 

“Here.” Steve said softly, and Tony turned to take the drink, smiling warmly up at Steve and, to Steve's pleasant surprise, he leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to Steve's lips. Steve felt his heart skip a beat and he kissed back for the brief second that it was, straightening up as Tony sipped his drink. 

“Oh!” Tony said after swallowing a mouthful of Coke. “This is Anna and Henry Livingston. They were good friends of my mothers.” he said, gesturing to the older man and woman in front of him. Steve smiled and shook their hands, while Anna looked like she had just seen all she needed to in life. She was a well aged woman, with pretty blue eyes and dark hair that was swept up into a bun at the back of her head, and even the streaks of white in her hair weren't out of place. 

“Oh, lovely to meet you, Mr Rogers.” she said kindly. 

“Steve is just fine, ma'am.” Steve said politely, and she turned to her husband. 

“My goodness! I don't remember the last time someone called me ma'am.” she turned back to Steve. “You're a very nice boy, Steve. I'm glad Tony finally managed to get his hold over you. He's had a crush on you since he was, oh, how young, Henry, seven? Eight?” 

“Six, actually, my dear, though I think it really became a crush until he was ten.” Henry supplied, and Steve raised his eyebrows at Tony, who was drinking his Coke like it was water, and whose cheeks were bright red. He choked and coughed into his fist, looking at Anna and Henry.

“Anna,” Tony pleaded once he'd finished coughing. “Henry. Please.” Anna tsked at him and Henry just looked amusedly at his wife. Steve adjusted his shoulders and leaned in towards Anna. 

“You're being honest?” he asked, and she grinned wickedly. 

“Oh yes. He had all of the merchandise, and was so devastated when Howard told him that you weren't alive any more. He cried all night. Maria brought him over to our house because Howard was trying to work.” she said, waving her hand at a Tony who was pointedly looking away from Steve, cheeks growing ever brighter. “We had to buy him some ice cream just so he'd be quiet.” 

“And then he demanded that we bring him his Captain America blanket because he needed it to sleep.” Henry interjected, and Tony spluttered into his cup. Steve chuckled. 

“That certainly sounds like something Tony would do.” he said with a grin, and Tony bumped into him in disbelief.

“No, it doesn't!” he cried defensively, and Steve just laughed. He slid one arm around Tony's shoulders, pressing a kiss to his temple. Tony grumbled but Steve felt his hand on the small of his back, and he smiled. 

“How long have you two been together?” she asked. Steve shrugged, letting Tony answer if he wanted to. 

“Not long. First date, actually.” he muttered reluctantly, and Anna beamed at them. 

“I wish you both the best of luck. You two look like a match made in heaven.” she rested on hand on Steve's shoulder, and one on Tony's wrist. “Henry and I must go sit down, I fear that I'm actually getting older. I hope to see you two later!” she said apologetically, and her and Henry wandered over to the dining section of the venue, the two of them linking arms and laughing together. 

Steve watched them, and Tony bumped his foot against Steve's. “Don't get any ideas,” he warned, drinking more of his coke, and Steve raised his eyebrows. Tony eyed him, finished his drink and placed the empty cup on a ledge nearby. “I did not need the blanket to sleep.” 

Steve laughed, half relieved. In all honesty, he'd been thinking about how much he wanted to grow old with Tony when Tony had spoken, and it had made him wonder if he'd shown it on his face. He leaned down and brushed a kiss against Tony's cheek. 

“I didn't think you did.” he said kindly, not meaning it at all. Tony snorted and pressed a firmer kiss to his lips, leaning into him. “Did you really cry?” he asked against Tony's mouth, and Tony scoffed, pulling away, but not far enough that Steve couldn't lean in and kiss him again if he wanted. He nodded, wordlessly, and Steve smiled and kissed him again, sliding a hand into his hair. Tony sighed happily and leaned into the kiss, and they broke a few seconds later.

“I do like Anna and Henry.” he muttered, licking his lips, tasting Coke, and Tony grinned. 

“Yeah, they're good ones.” he said fondly. “You know, Howard had a bigger crush on you than I did.” Steve choked. 

“Sorry?” he hissed, and Tony looked positively tickled. He shot Steve a wide grin and pulled him to the side, out of the way of people who were talking or dancing. 

“Oh yeah. Don't think he realised, though, but he would talk about you all the damn time.” he said. “Always told me what a good man you were. You were the role model in the household when Howard was too busy. He was more upset than I was about your death.” Tony made a face and leaned against what Steve thought was a pillar made of marble. Steve hummed and leaned beside him. 

“That's a little disturbing to think about.” he muttered. “Howard was a friend, sure, but he was married. Though, there were some times where I thought he might have a thing for me...” he trailed off, thinking. Tony made a gagging sound. 

“No thanks. I really don't want to hear about how my father made passes at you.” he grimaced, and Steve chuckled and slid his hand into Tony's. 

“Tony!” 

Tony tensed, and his hand fell from Steve's. Steve looked up, and anger surged through him like heroin. 

Pepper was walking over, smiling warmly. She was wearing a blush pink dress that accentuated the curves of her waist and hips, with matching heels. Her hair was done up so that it fell in ringlets around her face and shoulders. 

Steve acknowledged, bitterly, that she looked beautiful. Then he acknowledged how badly he wanted of Thor's Asgardian booze, the only drink in the universe that could get him drunk. 

Pepper leaned down and pressed her lips to either side of Tony's face. “It's so good to see you, Tony.” she cooed, and Tony managed a convincing smile. “How are you?” 

“Fine, Pep. Doing just fine. How are you?” Tony asked, and Steve hated how small he sounded. He wanted to say something, to do something, but he knew that he had to wait until Pepper made the first move, otherwise it would look very bad to the people around them. 

For the first time that evening, Pepper's eyes rested on Steve, who wasn't exactly trying to hide his disdain for her presence. She looked at him scrutinizingly with her pretty pale blue eyes, and he dared her to say something, anything, to give him a reason to snap. She smiled back at Tony and brushed some of her hair behind her ear.

“Would you mind giving us some privacy, Captain Rogers?” she asked sweetly, and he gave her a cold smile. 

“I'm fine right here, thanks.” he replied calmly, and Tony shifted so that he was a fraction of an inch closer to Steve, which, to Steve, was as good as a thank you. Pepper laughed humourlessly and looked at Tony, playing dumb and confused. Always suited her, Steve thought before he could filter himself. 

“I don't bite, Captain. I don't think Tony needs you as his guard dog, now does he?” she asked, her lips forming a mocking pout. Steve grinned wolfishly, baring his teeth as a warning. Fine. If he was going to be a guard dog in her eyes, then a guard dog he was. She faltered, only for a second, but Steve knew he had the upper hand. He'd learned a lot from being the little guy for most of his life, and letting someone see even a hint of a weak point was going to be your downfall. 

“Fine.” Pepper said, a little curtly, and she turned back to Tony. She glanced at Steve, as if wondering if he was really going to stay, and he pointedly looked away. That was the extent of the privacy he'd give her, and she was going to take it. 

“I miss you.” Pepper murmured, and Steve snorted. Pepper scoffed and marched up to Steve, glaring and angrier than he'd ever seen her. “What is it, Steve?” she demanded. 

“What, no Captain?” he said, feigning offence. She growled at him, and he turned to face her, looking down upon her angry expression. “If you want him, you should have kept him when you had the chance. You don't get to come crawling back, not after what you did to him.” He growled right back, and she laughed, loud and cold. 

People were starting to look, now. He could feel Tony's tension from beside him, and he knew that he had to make this quick.

“It was a mutual divorce, Rogers! We both decided to end it!” she cried. Steve opened his mouth to speak. 

“No it wasn't.” Tony murmured, and Pepper looked in his direction so fast that Steve thought her neck might snap. He felt pride rise in himself at Tonys defense of himself, and was gently reminded that in almost any other situation, Tony would be the one baring his teeth and snarling like a rabid dog. Tony straightened up and licked his lips, and Steve made himself shrink slightly, letting Tony take over. 

He'd kill for Tony, but Tony could just as easily kill for himself. 

“You were—you were awful, Pepper. But I didn't want to leave you. I loved you.” Tony hissed. “You fell out of love with me, remember? You wouldn't so much as let me touch you on the shoulder. It was you decision, now stick with it. I've moved on,” he reached and grabbed Steve's hand, filling Steve with affection. “And so should you.” 

Tony turned and, pulling Steve along with him, he marched out of the venue, pressing a finger to an earpiece that Steve hadn't noticed before. Steve pulled him close and pressed a kiss to his mouth as he was speaking, and though Tony pulled away, he was smiling as he continued to relay instructions to whoever was on the other end of the line. Steve assumed it was Happy, but he couldn't tell anymore. 

As the car pulled up, and Tony was enveloped in his arms, Steve felt like the world was in the palm of his hand, and that he couldn't wish for anything else. He had the man he loved in his arms, even if it was a short amount of time, it would be enough. He would die happy, because he had Tony Stark for a fraction of his life, and that was all he could ask for. 

Though, he wouldn't lay down if someone tried to fuck with what they had. He'd defend himself and he would defend Tony. If that resulted in someone dying, then, Steve supposed, it wouldn't be too much of a loss. 

Not when it came to Tony. 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, okay, okay. 
> 
> this chapter has inspired me for the next fic in this series. It could take a while because I have big plans for it, and I think you guys will like it. I doubt it will take too long, though, so check back every once in a while!
> 
> hope you enjoyed this! comments and kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked! Kudos and comments are always loved, they're pretty much my lifeblood at this point, and the closest thing I get to socialization nowadays!
> 
> There will be an update! It might be to this particular story, it might be to the series. Check back in to read more!
> 
> <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3


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